Chapter Text
Hell was a manifestation of pure Evil born of the moment that Eve bit into the Fruit of Knowledge. An ugly tear in the perfection that had been made by Purity and Goodness. Everyone knew this as absolute fact, from the holiest of Seraphim to the lowliest imp.
Everyone was wrong.
From the moment Heaven had been formed, so too was Hell. In a universe that cared only about balance, the idea that Good should always overpower Evil was a foolish concept. For every act of creation, there must be a destruction of what was there before. For every spark of light, a shadow spreads wide. Good and Evil were things of choice, of thought, not of the natural order.
Though formed at the same time, Heaven was recognized first because it was a place of creation, of life. It called angels into being and they spread themselves out into the far reaches of the universe, taking pride in their supposed superiority as the first creatures born. These lights grew brighter and brighter as Hell waited. Its potential also kept growing but it did not have the power to create. It had to wait for an act of true destruction to give it form.
Such as the destruction of the innocence of humanity.
Hell relished being able to be shaped into something more than mere potential, given a form that, though currently barren, would one day be the balance to Heaven that it ached to be.
Then came Lucifer and Lilith. Cast away by Heaven for their supposed folly, Hell welcomed its first two denizens with open arms. In his pain and anger and drive to give his love a place worthy of her, Lucifer grabbed the potential waiting to be shaped and breathed life into it. Rings formed to become places that embodied the opposite of the Virtues, bringing to life concepts that would come to be called Sins. As he fed more and more of himself to it, the more that Hell came to covet this creature of tainted, wounded light and his strong, beautiful beloved. Lilith too embraced Hell, just as it had embraced her, singing into it an array of feelings that had never been known to it before. Joy, compassion, love, all such foreign things to it but it eagerly accepted them.
From the combined efforts of its King and Queen, a twisted sort of life sprouted from the untapped energy of this plane. Plants and creatures began to form and occupy the physical places they had made. Hell thrived, growing even more with each sinful soul that fell to it, adding their own energy and experiences to it's ever-shifting landscape.
For a time, all was as it should be. Then Lucifer began to reject Hell, to turn away and hide from it as the weight of the years and human souls started to overtake him. It mourned the loss of one it had so cherished, waiting tirelessly for him to return. Hell craved his attention and presence and would do whatever it could to have it once more.
Then the angels came.
And the King did not.
Hundreds, thousands of creatures of light bent on returning Hell to a barren place once again.
The Queen rose against these invading forces, made stronger by the spirit of this land and its will to survive. Her song and will stood firm, holding the line against Heaven.
But the King still did not come, his despair and self-hatred blocking out the call, the plea from Hell to defend it. He had forgotten the way it had embraced him, the life he had given it. Perhaps a life would remind him of this once more.
So it gifted Lilith a boon, weakening its own spirit for a time to give her the chance to defy Heaven and create a child with her King. Perhaps then he would remember what he had built, what he had created, what he needed to defend.
Charlotte Morningstar, a child born of a human sinner and a fallen angel, a child that (by all that those in Heaven knew) should not exist. She was born of the desperation of Hell to survive but her joy and love in everything around her endeared her to it just as her parents had so long ago. So when Lucifer bowed to Heaven to protect her, allowed for the Exterminations to begin, it could not fully rage against him as the Queen did.
Lilith was stunning in her anger, a truly wrathful demon Queen. But her fury would come at a cost, her rejection of her King turning into a rejection of everything he was tied to. In time, she too destroyed her connection to Hell, turned her back and left the place that held her so dear.
Something more would need to be done.
This could not be the end.
The spirit of Hell looked at the way its dear little Charlie, so young and optimistic, embraced sinners. Her dreams and thoughts were so big at times that it could catch echoes of them, see how she strove to make things better for them despite the actions of Heaven. She could be the way to reconnect with the King and regain his love.
If it was sinners she was reaching out to and holding close, then part of a sinner it would become.
***
Alastor knew he had died, that the bullet that he’d heard had gone through his skull and ended his life even more swiftly than he ended his own prey. Pity, there were so many things he had desired to accomplish still.
"A͘l̸̏â̒ͧs͇̥̀t̖́ó͙̱͜r̎̔"
That voice...it sounded like his own but through the static of a radio with poor reception. His consciousness or soul or whatever he was now felt like it was being stopped from a fall he had been unaware of occurring. A shape began to form out of the darkness, red and tall with a wide grin.
“Who are you?” It was a bit surprising that he could talk, given that he had no mouth that he could feel.
"I͖n e̶ͥs͢se̖ͨnͩcẻ I̝ͨͯ am̊͠ the̴̐ s̲ͥ̇p̑i̗r̀it͐ͦ oͩ̄͜f Hellͅ, tͫȟoug͚h tͧͤh̄i͇͢sͭ f̌͢õrm̷̊ î̻s͙̉̄ t̼̆h̳͘ẽͭ o͜n̸̓̀e͉͟ yö͎́u̓ wͅi͚͆̌l̆l͎͡ tã͉ͅke̶͔͙ wh͆e͗ń̥ y̏̓o̊ǔ͗ l͜a̞nͯd̲ ïͪn̂ͧ my p̢l̴̙a͍n̰͂̓e of̟ e͑̓͋x̎ͅisten̄ͨ̍cḙ.͑"
The spirit of Hell? How strange that a place would have a conscious mind. Though perhaps not so strange considering that before this, Alastor had been uncertain if Hell even existed or if it was simply a concept created to control the weaker masses. “To what do I owe the honor? Or is this perhaps how all souls are greeted upon their descent?”
A cackle came from the strange creature in front of him, the body that would be his when he landed apparently, “Vȅ̲ry f̅̍ȅ̕͜w há̻ͪv̪e͕͓̍ s̅͘p̭͛õḳͩe̿n̙ ẘ͕͙it̸̨̼h̸͉ m̪̆̂e̛͂ bͨ̌u̱̲͛t I͔ a͚͆ṃͦ verͭ̂y̱ͤ in̝͟t̖̔̏e̗ͣrẻs͛ṭ̘ͅe̜͒̈d̰̃̿ in y̥̹͜ò͡u̥̿͊. Y̺ͨ̀ő̧ư̻̌ ś͊ȅe͈̖͜, I h͙̚a̽̏v͖e̍ͩ̑ a͒ p̥ͨrȏ͉͕b͉̻͟lͅe͇͟m̌̇́ a̞n̪̓d̺ t͔h͕͔̣àt͔ h͉̺͌ole͠ y̔ͤo̭͎̚u f̺̔ėel̏ w̫i͌ẗ́h͍i̬̟̅n̞͞ your͓s̢̡ěl̅̕f mi̻̹gͤh̰͟t̰ j̚u̶̴͇st b̢͓ͭe̻ e͙no͈uͪgh̰̒ t̹o̳̣ ca̠͔͊rryͭ m̢͛͢e̥͢ w͋ï̬th͔outͧ̈ de̷͍̅s͟t̪̍r͐̔ǫy̳̞in̪̥ͪg̝̱ yōū.̮̻̑”
Perhaps he should have been surprised that another was aware of the emptiness he had felt within himself for as long as he could remember. Alastor had never understood why it was there. As a child, the only thing that had eased it was the unwavering love of his mother. She would see the strangeness, his inability to connect with others around him, but she never turned away. Then his bastard of a father had taken that from him, killing the only person he had truly felt loved him.
It wasn’t long after that Alastor returned the favor and found another thing that sated the hunger. Watching the life drain from the wretched man’s eyes, he felt a satisfaction he never had before. In that one moment, he actually felt whole and the world grew brighter. It was much easier to give a real smile to people for a while. His mother had always said that a person’s best feature was their smile and the one he saw in the mirror the night after didn’t feel like a mockery of her words for once.
The brightness eventually faded away and the ache returned. So he learned to hunt, to kill those whose grins he coveted the most, taking them for his own. That was why he had been in the woods when he died, his hands still stained with the blood of his latest victim.
Alastor looked at this strange face that was so different and yet so similar to his own, “You wish for me to carry you? The spirit of Hell itself?”
“I͓͉ṇ̷͠ a seͨn͊̈́sͨeͨ,̤ I d̬̜̂esir̳e f̷̜̤ò͍̑r̦̃ yo͈u to̿ be̅ć͢oͤͣme̊ a͚ͬn e̡͙̪x̢ẗ̤̇e̺ͅn̎s͎ͭion̩̈́ͫ of̍ m̞e͓.̴̦͛ Y̋ơ̱̥u̍͂ͫ wi̮lͥl s̸tĭl̈ͪl h͛͊oͪͯ͝ld yo͜ur m̭̜i̙̰͡n͙ͭd̤̋ͅ b̤̰̎ut e͍v̀̆̋e̽n̩ͬ̀tualͨly͌ͨ̑ oụ͋͊ȓ͕̠ des͊͟i͇͇͠r̃̊ͦeś̎̊ w̿̑͠i̩͉͜ll̇͛ b̙̀͜e̩ͩc̖̹̤om͡eͤ t͐̒ḧ͇ͤe s̀̌aḿ̨̯e.͔̃ Y̋ơ̱̥u̍͂ͫ w̢ͯilͧl b͎e my ą͔̥v̳a̜ṱ̢a̜r̟.”
An avatar of Hell. That was an intriguing idea though he wasn’t sure what it meant that their desires would become the same, “And what exactly are your desires?”
Red eyes flashed to radio dials and those red tufts shifted a bit. Were those ears? “I desir͔e͌̈́͋ m̜͒y Kͭi̯n̠͍̄g̨̝ t̖̠̀o t̓a̹͛k͍̄̃e͂ hi̯s̓͑̚ r̓iͭ̕ğht̓f͈͡uͬl p̺͑ͧl̦ăcë́́ oͯͯnc̓e mo̯ͦͅrḛ̹͛.̈́̎ To̼̭ s̩͡t̞̑͝a͑̀ͮnd̴ a͔͟gaïnŝ̜ͣt̂ He̚͠a̹̿v̷̛en͜ ą̠nd͕͑ e̶͇̚mbr̥̂ǎc̶̿e m̷̏̋e͚͛ a̘͕̖n͆͝ḑ̥́ m͢y g̺ͨif̩t͎̐s tͥ̚͡o h̠͐̏iͣmͭ a̗̳s̤̖ h̵e o̒ͯñc̜ͧe̫ di̓d.̖”
In a flash, Alastor felt foreign memories cross his mind, brief moments of the long history of Hell becoming known to him. That covetous feeling this place had for its King, and even the Queen though she was no longer within its reach, was immense. If he had knees, he would have fallen to them then.
It was as that feeling faded that the hunger within him grew stronger than it had ever been before. A mere taste was not enough, and from the way that wicked grin curled on the creature’s face, it knew it too.